"Well, it's not Nobody," he answers, a bright light of humor in his eyes as he finally makes it to the door that belongs to him. He juggles the things in his deep pockets around for a second before securing his room keys, and slipping them into the lock. "And it isn't Mr. Reaper. Urahara Kisuke," he says.

"And what's the name of the young lady with the hair like sunshine who isn't afraid of a vampire? Or following home a god of death?"

Pressing the door open, he quickly sheds his heavy shoes on the boot tray siting near the door before moving toward the bathroom. The nice thing about his apartment in comparison to Rukia's, he thinks, is that his comes with an old-fashioned, quite large, claw-foot bath and shower.